I find recipes very intimidating. Maybe it’s because I can never spell recipe right on the first try. (I always want to add an extra ‘I.’ Is that just me?) More likely, it’s because the format and process of bringing those words to life in the shape of real, actual food has always been a challenge.
So, to start, I decided to go with cookies. The really famous shortbread chocolate cookies that took Instagram by storm whenever AR’s first book came out.
I saved them for the Galentine’s holiday when I knew I’d have a best friend coming over to celebrate. (And then I promptly made lots of promises to her so I couldn’t back out.)
The shopping went okay. I wandered through the aisles longer than I’d anticipated. And it took a lot of hunting to find the right baking chocolate, which I did not know was different from regular, snaking chocolate (which I’d already fully stocked in my kitchen). When I got back with my knock-off sugar, because it was last minute and I couldn’t find exactly what she wanted, I was very excited to get going.
Step one: Lay out the cookbook on the counter and gather your ingredients.
Step two: Read the first line and get started without checking to make sure you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.
Step three: Realize you have the wrong paddle attachment for the mixer. Weigh pros and cons. (The clock is ticking down. You might not pull this off.) Use the wrong attachment anyway.
Step four: Wow. I am killing it. The wrong attachment totally works. GO AC! Why did I ever doubt myself? Makes a note to call the Great British Bake Off in the morning and apply. Mary Berry, who?
Step five: Oh no. I didn’t buy any flour. I have no flour.
Step six: Race to grocery store. Clerk is a little judgey since you were just there thirty minutes prior.
Step seven: Time pressure is really amping up. You’re sweating. Friend texts she’s running late. (WHEW). Tell her that’s amazing.
Step eight: Start dumping in the flour. Mix away. Realize this is what makes it shortbread. Dough starts getting heavy.
Step nine: WOAH. Dough is really heavy! Mixer starts to whir even slower and slower. She’s humming and hot. She dies. Unplug. Re-plug. Yep. Time of death: 7:08 PM.
Step ten: *A moment of silence for your $10 Hamilton Beach mixer your mom used once before when she came to visit.*
Step eleven: It’s ok! The dough is most of the way mixed. Use a spoon to force the sticky dough out of the dead mixer’s paddle. This takes muscle.
Step twelve: Read that you were supposed to let the dough rest in the freezer for several hours. *Colorful curse words.* Friend texts she’s almost ready.
Step thirteen: Roll it out and cut them up anyway (un-frozen). Make an egg wash. Dunk the cookie edges in sugar and throw them in the oven.
Step fourteen: Friend arrives, and you catch her up on the saga. She laughs and says, “this is the most on brand thing I’ve ever heard. Don’t worry, they look great!” even though the comparison between the cookies and the cookbook is laughable.
Step fifteen: But wait, they taste AMAZING.
Final rating:
Four spoons for taste!
One spoon for execution!
Follow-up: When the extra dough was frozen and then baked properly, the cookies looked just like the picture and were the perfect treat for another friend’s birthday. This recipe was more labor intensive than I initially expected, but now I wouldn’t be scared to make them (with the right paddle fixture and flour that is).
ac&ar 